


Storm

by PipBoi3000



Category: Rooster Teeth, freewood - Fandom, kings AU - Fandom, team love n stuff - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Achievement Hunter Kings, Blood, Knife-play, Light BDSM, M/M, blade-play, borderline non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:11:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6021589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PipBoi3000/pseuds/PipBoi3000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His majesty Gavin Free has had the crown less than a week and already he is bored of the job. Entertainment however, comes in the form of the blacksmith, Haywood and the storm he brings in his wake. Perhaps this job isn't so bad after all....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Cure For Boredom

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning there is a LOT of smut in this here work. I've tried to be poetic but there are only so many shakespearean censors one can apply before the intention is lost. There might have to be another chapter, too..This is my first fic so please be kind. Anyway! Enjoy.  
> xx

The dark sky seemed to pulsate, heavy with the threat of an oncoming storm, rolling and ominous, a sublime force to be reckoned with. King Gavin however, was unfazed, staring flatly out at the brooding weather with a look of disdain and, quite simply; boredom. He couldn’t ride his horse, nor show off his acres at a lavish garden party nor dance wildly across the grass...He couldn’t even lead servant’s into the maze and laugh until he took pity on them and fetched them from within its ever-changing walls. No, today Gavin could do none of those things. But that wasn’t to say he was without ideas for his own childish entertainment. So while the storm conjured itself amongst the clouds, a plot conjured itself amongst Gavin’s thoughts. One green-gloved hand thrummed rhythmically upon the balcony against which he stood and by the time the first raindrops hit his ambery hair and the maids were nervously insisting he return inside, Gavin had his evening all planned out.  
“You, (a click of his fingers) I need you to do a favour for me, love…” he crooned the last word to the petite maid, allowing a wolfish grin to grace his face. She smiled and went pink, bobbing a curtsey.

 

“M’lord?” Another grin.  
“Get me the court blacksmith. The one who works in the crown’s forge. The one with the skirt. Hayworth….Haywin…? Haywood! Fetch me Haywood.” Gavin waved his hand, dismissing the overly hopeful maid to her duties and already bouncing over to his enormous four poster like a puppy. Ten minutes later a gentle knocking at the door and Gavin, over-dramatically drawled “Enter..!”  
Haywood couldn’t have looked more out of place if he tried. Upon seeing the king, he cast his eyes down at the floor. In the time it had taken to fetch the blacksmith, Gavin had….reordered his garb. He wore his green satin drawers with a gold ‘G’ stitched into the hem, his gold boots, one on the bed , the other leg slung lazily over a pillow, a fair few feet of beautiful green scarf and, on top of it all; The crown, placed boyishly lopsided on his scruffy hair.  
“Now, Haywood.” The king said, pleased with himself…. Had the blacksmith always been this good looking?And those HANDS..! Anyway….Gavin, thrown, cleared his throat.  
“I have a task for you.”  
“Yes, your majesty?”  
“A chalice. With water and ice. Lots of ice. I’m bored AND thirsty and that just won’t do.”  
Confused but knowing better than to argue, the blacksmith met the spoilt king’s demand. The king took the chalice and set it on the bedside table without a second glance.  
“Now lock the door.”  
Haywood made to move.  
“With you on the inside of it, Ryan.” Ryan, for that was his name, wondered why on earth the king knew this.  
“Now…..Fetching drinks? Locking doors? It’s all been a bit easy so far. So let’s begin your next task. A test of loyalty if you will…..Hmmmm….yes, shoes. Take them off.” On the last word of this request the king sat abruptly up onto his knees, his pointed grin wider than ever. How wrong he had been; This evening wasn't going to be boring at all. He had found a pet. "My.. shoes? Sire.. I'm in that forge all day.. I don't wish to make your retch with what scent may be caused... your grace.”  
Gavin pouted, all full lips and folded arms.  
“I didn’t ASK for your wish, blacksmith. I asked for you to take off your shoes. Socks whilst you’re at it.”  
Ryan resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow and did as he was told, placing them neatly by his feet and ignoring the almost pantomimed way the little king tapped his fingers against his shoulder. It was true, he didn’t smell clean. But he didn’t exactly smell bad either, Gavin noted. It was the scent of metals and burning things, the scent of labour and work. The smell was almost animal; Out of place in the gentle air of the king’s bedroom which was lifted by a gentle note of lilies.  
Ryan straightened up and looked at the monarch.  
“Apron and gloves.” They went, the heavy iron-bolted leather from which they were made, thumped as it hit the ground and Ryan hastened to fold the items.  
“Leave them be…..” Gavin’s voice had gained a gentle, almost threatening purr and the fingers that had moments ago tapped an impatient rhythm, trailed softly over his smug lips as he looked at the blacksmith.  
“Shirt.” Ryan took it off and Gavin was rendered momentarily speechless at the broad form. But he collected himself quickly, slipping off the bed and, scarf trailing behind him, crossing the room to Ryan.  
“Your majesty, forgive the intrusive nature of my question but...For what purpose do you want my clothes? They will not fit you I fear and-” Ryan stopped speaking abruptly as Gavin traced his hand ever-so-softly around Haywood’s bare waist.  
“I don’t want your clothes, dear fool, but rather what lies beneath them..”  
Gavin turned on his heel and pulled Ryan’s hand to his shoulder, leading him firmly to his bed, onto which he pushed him with a surprising strength. Ryan’s heart beat matched that of a hummingbird but he smiled when the king looked to him, a dark calculated smirk of realization. Straddling him, Gavin took a deep breath, the wild smouldering scent of Ryan’s heated skin mixed with the stabbing, almost blood-like scent of the storm that bloomed black outside. As the first roll of thunder made Gavin shiver and the rain fell with a new force, the young monarch looked briefly into those burning eyes before bringing his lips down to collide hotly, hungrily with those of his all-too-willing prey.

Ryan's hand snaked up Gavin's back to tangle in his unruly hair, holding him firmly in place, his lips moving with a kind of aching tenderness against the monarchs. Gavin all but buckled beneath the blacksmiths touch and he opened his mouth to accommodate the growing depth of the kiss. Thunder struck again, far closer this time and Gavin dug his nails into Haywood's shoulders, like a terrified cat. The blacksmith stopped moving with him for just a second, just long enough for Gavin to know he had noted Gavin's fear. Without warning, Ryan swept Gavin beneath him in a fluid movement, pinning the shocked looking boy.  
“Scared of a little thunder my liege…?”  
“What's it to you what I'm afraid of?” The king spat back,  
Ryan chuckled softly.  
“Nothing, it's just that there are things you should fear far more than thunder…”  
With each word his hands roamed lower and he bowed his head until Gavin could feel hot breath against his throat like a deer caught beneath a wolf. The hands Gavin had before admired, brushed teasingly at the growing hardness between his legs while the sharp canines grazed at his jugular. The sensations elicited a soft mewl from the king and Ryan chuckled again. Then, without warning nor hesitation, the teeth that had gently tormented pale flesh were brought down with an animal force, enough to draw blood only to lap at it, cleaning the mess as it was made. Gavin threw back his head in a bittersweet ache, the action only further exposing the feast of his throat to the wolf above him. He hadn't expected to lose control this quickly, he hadn't expected his pet to bite back and while it was fun for now… The pet would need training.But never mind that. Training would come soon, for now the king happily weakened with each crimson bud that bloomed between the blacksmiths teeth, gasping and hissing at his careful work.  
Then: a bite harder than the rest and a flash of lightning, snapped Gavin into a new mindset. Gone was the helpless deer caught between the dog's jaws, for the emerald eyes that snapped open were those of a panther. Gavin let out a snarl and with the litheness of a hunter and an unexpected force he pounced, flipping their forms so Ryan was beneath him, once more where he belonged. Gavin laughed, a husky, purring sound in the back of his throat.  
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, boy." He whispered, undeterred by the blacksmith being clearly his senior. Age didn't factor into monarchy. Haywood laughed and Gavin thought for a second,eyes narrowed. Suddenly he bounced, smug and pink-faced, over to get a drink from the frosted goblet. Ryan had no chance to move however, before the boy-king had him firmly pinned once more on the silken sheets. He kissed him quickly with cold lips and then slid down Haywood's body, sinking to his knees in front of the blacksmith. Long fingers roamed up Ryan's smoke-stained kilt to find the drawstrings that restrained him. Gavin was disappointed to find the obstacle but then again... Working in a forge, perhaps traditionalism was less desirable than safety. Gavin winced at the thought. Finally the strings came loose and the undergarments were practically launched across the room. Gavin let out a mumbled sound of satisfaction and threw one of Ryan's legs over his narrow shoulder.  
"M-my liege..?"  
Gavin shushed him sloppily and ....ohhhhhh my Gods...  
Ryan wasn't small. Gavin bit his lip, staring and unable to look away. He couldn't help but notice the blacksmith was almost at full mast... He tried not to think about how the taste and sight of the king's blood alone had got him there. Gavin smiled to himself, swilling the ice around in his mouth having taken a huge shard to his palate as he had drank. His smile broadened as he thought about how diligently the blacksmith had brought him the icy chalice. He licked his lips, hungrily eyeing the blacksmiths length before taking him in his mouth, ensuring the ice made contact with sensitive skin. He closed his eyes, his own drawers suddenly far too tight upon hearing the whimpering moan Haywood tried to suppress with his fingers. But biting his knuckles did no good as the king set about his task. After all, if the little pet was to be trained, he would first need to learn the reward, feel just how generous the young king could be; all puffed breath and dutiful tongue. It was a trick of his that was worth behaving for. Oh yes, the charismatic young king was certainly a people pleaser.  
Gavin felt rough hands twist in his hair, an involuntary movement on the blacksmith's part, who had been rendered helpless beneath his own ravenous lust. Gavin submitted to the hands that urged him on, his own fingers gripping, white-knuckled to Ryan's hips in order to pull him deeper into his mouth. As the ice melted the taste of him changed to one of bitter anticipation and he had given up on trying to muffle his moans. Gavin pawed desperately at the tautly pulled satin of his drawers as Ryan choked out "G-Gavin!" The king pulled away, his chest heaving and Ryan let out an indignant sound at Gavin leaving him on the brink of release. The monarch wiped his mouth messily on the back of his wrist and leapt so his nose all but touched Ryan's.  
"Fuck me. Now."  
Haywood chuckled, his mind buzzing from the tingling feeling upon his skin thanks to the king's treatment prior. "You... your wish is my command..." he wrapped his hands, calloused and strong from the forge, around Gavin's legs, lifting him up.  
“That bottle there GAH! The blue one. With the peacock design..."  
Gavin pointed at the bedside table to where a bunch of lilies, a letter opener and...There! A beautifully patterned glass bottle stood waiting. "Flaxseed oil." Gavin grinned as Ryan retrieved it. Ryan held the bottle in his teeth, using both hands to unlace and pull off the kings ridiculously frivolous drawers. These and the scarf were dropped to the floor but the boots took a moment longer, especially with Gavin giggling and squealing like a fool. And the crown....the crown could stay on. Like a golden embellishment atop a feast, one that Ryan was about to take to; about to break and spend and devour.  
"Hurry it up!" Gavin whined "or I'll-mmAH!"  
Warmly oiled fingers suddenly within him, his slight frame rutting upwards to meet them. He wasn't aware how powerful the curl of a finger could be, making the lad squirm indignantly. Haywood didn't move at first, just letting the king get used to the size before pumping his fingers deep within him steadily.  
Gavin shuddered in delighted ecstasy, letting out a cry as Ryan hit his sweet spot. The blacksmith pushed Gavin's thighs roughly apart, staring down at the helpless king who grinned back without shame.  
He was an exhibitionist to say the least; a sheen of sweat and a dawn-pink blush right across his chest, punctuated by dark bites. Here like this, Haywood knew he would be so easy to end; smothered under a silk pillow before he could scream or his throat slit open with the decorative letter opener he had spied earlier. Haywood thought about how hot and slick the monarchs blood would be, how sweet it would taste... How easy it would be to pry the crown from the slender fingers that currently gripped his thighs....  
But he did no such thing, instead he smiled; running his tongue over his teeth and raising an eyebrow.  
"Are you ready, my liege?"  
"Y-y-yes! FUCK! just....PLEASE?!"  
It was the first time Haywood had heard the king say 'please' and he had often wondered if the boy was completely devoid of manners. But manners maketh man and a simple please can get one a long way in life. Ryan removed the two fingers he had used to prepare the king, pointedly IGNORING the bleat it encouraged. He covered his cock in the oil and emptied the rest of the bottle between Gavin's spread legs  
"Pointless really. You're so wet anyway. Disgusting little royal WHORE." Ryan practically roared the last word, dragging Gavin onto him; filling him with his girth. Gavin gasped sharply, choking back a howl at the merciless roughness of the one he thought to be only his toy.  
But Ryan was completely in control now and he stood at the helm with a power far richer than the facade Gavin failed to keep. He rocked slowly and purposely, making sure he felt the shift in weight but more importantly the shift in authority. By the time he met his release; Gavin would know who really ruled. A startling "yes!" Gasped in approval brought Ryan out of his thoughts. Ryan slowed his motion even further, making Gavin whine wordlessly. The boy bucked his hips up, trying to make Ryan move again.  
"Do NOT try to seek the friction I am purposely depriving you of. Always so lazy. Never willing to work for anything. I'll teach you to work...." Ryan ran his still-wet fingers the length of Gavin's torso then down the inside of his wrist to where he felt his quickened pulse. His grip tightened.  
"Touch yourself." Shaking, Gavin did as he was told; taking himself in his slack grip and moving in quick desperate strokes.  
"No no no my liege. You move in time with me. Is that understood?" A nod. "Good...Such a good boy when you're not throwing tantrums." Ryan moved again. This time he moved with a different intention. The king knew, at least for now, who was in charge and it wouldn't be hard to remind him. So now Ryan focused entirely on the monarchs satisfaction. Crowns aside, the boy was something exceptional and Ryan wanted more than anything to see him lose himself to pleasure. To beg and keen and reach a release that broke him.  
The fingers of Gavin's free hand wrapped tightly around the bars of the gilded headboard, bracing himself against Ryan's movement. A trail of kisses peppered Gavin's chest, dangerously sweet compared to the bites that had preluded them.  
"P-please Ryan. Please harder...." Ryan smiled, glad to hear the word again, satisfied the monarch was learning.  
"Such good manners. You'll be a gentleman yet..." Ryan shifted his hands from the bed to the kings hips. He reared onto his knees, pulling Gavin's lower half up with him. Gavin cried out low and long at the sudden all-encompassing proximity and still Ryan moved with a crushing insistency. Skin rushed against skin and all Gavin could do was cling to Ryan and bite his tongue. And then "I-ah! I'm gonna..! I gotta..! RYYYY!"  
Ryan laughed.  
"Go right ahead your majesty..." And just like that, the young royal was rendered a slave to his own white- knuckled orgasm.  
Sweat and blood glistened on his skin as he tried in vain to catch his breath. But Ryan was far from done with him and he planned to keep the king breathless for a while yet.  
"What are you doing? Where are you going?" Come back to bed..!" His voice had that demanding whine back in it and it seemed 'please' had once again left his vocabulary. But the blacksmith knew this would happen and he was already gathering up armloads of the kings discarded scarf....  
"Hey! That's my sca-mmmmp! MMMMMPH!" Haywood smirked with his hand clamped hard over the mouth that....sigh....just kept running off. Gavin was pressed back into his bed, amongst the soiled sheets. Ryan's mouth met with his once more and he let himself get lost in the kiss. This was a mistake. For while Ryan also craved the taste of the kings mouth against his own, this was not why he kissed him. In this instance, the blacksmith used his kiss as a gag, keeping the king occupied. Meanwhile his fingers moved quickly and skilfully; binding the kings wrists to the bedposts with the beautiful length of emerald-green. By the time Gavin had realised was happening, Ryan was grinning as he worked on Gavin's ankles. He was the deer once more, strung up for skinning,  
"RELEASE ME AT ONCE! I COMMAND IT! THAT'S AN ORDER, BLACKSMITH I-" The boy-king was cut off for a second time that evening, this time by a slap, harsh enough to make his ears ring.  
"And to think, silly little majesty made me lock the door. So caught up in locking out the storm that you didn't notice what you were locking in..." Ryan calmly picked up the letter opener. That was the last thing Gavin saw before the crown that really was far too big for him was pushed roughly down over his eyes...


	2. Thunder and Reign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bound, blind, terrified. There's no place King Gavin would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently my off-switch on smut is damn near non-existent. Only a short chapter here to get things rolling to a rather grand finale if I do say so myself. Warning of blood and borderline non-con.

Gavin opened his mouth to scream but the thunder swallowed the sound of terror and distress; dulling it, numbing him into silence. Gavin had never felt fear like this before, cold tendrils of horror snaking around his heart and locking its icy grip. He couldn't breath, he was going to be sick. Jaw chattering uncontrollably, Gavin opened his mouth to beg. To plea and to try as hard as his current position would allow to REASON with the mad blacksmith.  
"Ryan! Ryan p-please! I'll give you whatever you want! T-there's a chest full of gold at the foot of my bed, take it! Take all of it! Take my furs and my jewels! Take m-" Gavin's desperate bribes were cut short by the letter opener suddenly being drawn upwards over his narrow chest. Gavin gasped; light though the stroke was, every nerve in his body seemed to hum with a kind of electricity. The king hated how hard he was, quaking and nauseous with arousal. Gavin watched in disgusted fascination past the edge of the crown that blinded him. The blacksmith regarded the shallow cut then, satisfied, he silently lowered his head to it. Gavin sucked air sharply as he felt the blacksmith's tongue run the length of the incision, teasing blood out and swallowing. He lifted his head to look at Gavin, knowing that the king could see him. He grinned, manic and scorching, blood painting his teeth crimson.  
"According to legend..." It was the first time Ryan had spoken since the knife was in his hand.  
"The final blood spilt of a king will run as blue as sapphires..." Gavin knew what was coming next.  
"Shall we find out?" Before he had time to choke out a response, Ryan's mouth moved from the thin line of blood to find the kings nipple, licking at it while his other hand traced over the sharp curve of the lads hips. The knife left its mark once more, seeking a line lower than the last and following the curve of the king's exposed ribs. The fresh mark seemed to warp and stretch with Gavin's tormented breath. The young majesty really was beautiful, particularly like this; a marred temptation, sweat and blood mingling on his sunshine skin. He let out a strangled cry, teetering on agony and blushing furiously at how his body betrayed him. Ryan rolled his hips against the bound frame beneath him, gauging the reaction. Gavin howled, shuddering and gulping.  
"I thought as much."  
Ryan repositioned himself, absentmindedly stroking Gavin to his full potential. Slowly, deliberately, Ryan lowered himself onto Gavin, glad of the oil that coated them both. Suspended there in the weave of his scarf, Gavin knew he was little more than a toy; An object Ryan used as he liked. Gavin didn't want it any other way. The king remained as silent as he was able, panting, breath hitching as Ryan fucked himself backwards onto Gavin with an achingly slow and constant grind. And Gavin could do nothing, nothing to speed him up. The angle of his suspension allowed no freedom and he was all but sobbing at how Ryan kept him there, teetering and completely devoid of power.

Gavin, deprived though he was, still reached his release first; battling restraints with a wild convulsion as he came. Gavin's efforts to stay silent, gallant though they were, were forgotten as his cry of rapture tore forth. Ryan wasn't far behind. Shoulders buckling he all but doubled over. Ryan laid into his bound king, his heels arched and his voice hitched in his throat, only to be released in the soft sighs that melted into pure bliss with each climax. His pleasure didn't last though and what happened next made his blood run cold.  
It was suddenly a blur. With the speed of a thief, Gavin's wrists flicked free of the scarf and he twisted the letter-opener from Ryan's weakened grip, pinning the blacksmith with a far more malicious intent than what drove him before. Before? Before what? He asked himself. Before Ryan had proved himself more than a toy? Before be became a threat? But Gavin knew the real reason. Before Ryan had become a dangerous fascination. Gavin knew he could get out of the binds, Gavin knew he could call a guard with a well-timed shout; have the blacksmith arrested, tried and executed by sunrise. But no. In truth, Gavin had no desire to do either. The cool hungry kiss of the knife was a new sensation to the spoilt lord; refreshing and invigorating compared to the silver spoon on which he choked each day he sat on his throne. But still, enough was enough and despite being a good actor, the power had never really left Gavin's hands. He was in control, he had the last word, he and he alone wore the crown. He looked to the knife, held hard to Haywood's throat.  
It was time to prove it.


	3. Spill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. This is the finale. There will be blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blood. Even more than the last chapter. And death too. Good stuff. I hope this ending sated your twisted pallets, i tried to keep it short and sweet after that obnoxiously long first chapter. PLEASE READ RIGHT TO THE END. I PROMISE IT'S WORTH IT.  
> Fingers crossed you enjoyed my first fic, feel free to leave a comment or send me a message   
> crash-bang-boom@tumblr.com  
> x

Ryan was not a man easily threatened, but Gavin, Gavin was a different threat entirely. No cool, dominating tones, no demanding child caught beneath the powerful pull of the crown. His eyes seemed to glow; flashing to match the lightening that pierced the sky. His hair was wild and his breathing ragged. He wore nothing but bruises and blood. The Emerald king looked nothing short of animal. The knife pressed against the flesh that shied from it's cold pressure and a whimpering kind of laugh escaped the boys lips. Ryan couldn’t blame him for his actions. He had, after all planned on killing the monarch and not done it with grace nor subtlety. His reason for this passionate assassination however… If the king knew THAT then Ryan would have never made it past his bedroom door. Ryan would have never made it past the castle walls. Soon...

"You" the word was hoarse and strained, as if it had to be pulled through a web of anger before it hit the open air where it hovered, sizzling. Haywood hissed out a breath, feeling the skin beginning to split beneath the blade. But still the assassin didn't break. The king pulled the pretend blacksmiths hair, forcing the knife deeper into his taut throat.  
"You DARE to lay a blade against me!?" Gavin's voice had taken on a terrifying, unearthly resonance now, and it only continued to build. The storm had lost every scrap of formidability in comparison to the raging creature of the crown that sat astride Ryan. Soon...  
"You DARE to bind me in my own chambers! I take your services as my entertainment; I make you quiver and keen, I taint your flesh and offer you my own. I make nought more demand than you sharing my bed and you try to ROB ME OF MY LIFE?!”   
Ryan didn't bother trying to choke out a response,he could hardly deny his intent. Still….Fucking the king was never a part of the plan and he certainly hadn’t regretted it. Ryan tasted blood on his lips and knew it was his own; choked up from the widening wound. There was no use fighting Gavin. The power that coursed through the kings veins was something not of this earth: The blue blood fuelled him, changing him and filling him with a strength that was far bigger than his wiry form. Ryan felt the letter-opener puncture his windpipe, but still he felt no fear. Only one word filled his mind.  
"Soon.”  
The blade found home and sunk deep into the exposed flesh. Ryan didn’t scream when Gavin slit his throat and his final expression was closer to a smile than a grimace. His eyes closed and his blood gushed forth; a scarlet river, hot and pungent. It was the first time Gavin couldn’t smell the storm. He gagged on the scent of Ryan’s life leaving his body and was about to turn his head away, the retching almost uncontrollable...when something made him stop.  
The ribbon of blood was changing, the crimson slipping to an inhuman shade of violet; the colour of wild flowers and of fresh bruises. Still it flowed; still it changed. Gavin pressed his hands over the severed artery, knowing, dreading what spilled forth between his fingers. Gavin was right to feel fear. His heart felt as if it were made of lead when he finally looked down. Sapphires. It was as blue as sapphires. The blood was not that of a blacksmith, it was not even that of a man. It was a symbol, a final silent threat. The trophy that linked a line of monarchs by the liquid in their veins. An tortured sound fell from the young king's open mouth was the blue blood stained his skin, tainting it, defacing it. He wasn’t a blacksmith…He wasn’t Gavin’s own spoiled entertainment. He was an enemy. He was a storm in himself.   
He was a king...  
Something that became all to clear when those eyes snapped back open.  
Those wild eyes.   
Those Mad eyes.  
Those blue eyes.  
As blue as sapphires.


End file.
